


Alone Together

by D_O



Series: Bolt [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aliases, FOB, I Know But I Just Cant Change Them Now, M/M, Really bad aliases, Sequel, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:11:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_O/pseuds/D_O
Summary: The tentative sequel to Light Em Up





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HPTrio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPTrio/gifts).



> I wasn't sure about writing this, but the thought nagged at me after a comment that was left on the first part of this story. I definitely have a direction I'm taking this in. There will be minimal angst, lots of FoB references and lyrics, maybe a full blown song again...and shenanigans from Blaise. Maybe even a cameo or two. 
> 
> HPTrio, you inspired me. Thanks for your blatant and kind comment. ;)

Alone Together

Harry roused around 9am the following morning, the heel of his left hand dug into his eye to rid it of sleep. The previous night swam through his foggy brain and he looked to his right. There, sleeping peacefully, was in fact Malfoy. So it wasn’t a liquor induced dream? Malfoy really had shown up at his auditions in disguise, sang with Harry and his bandmates, then went upstairs to his flat above their practice space to talk; apparently talk was a new euphemism for shagging. Well then.

His sleepy eyes focused more intently on the blonde, now devoid of all magical augmentation to hide his identity. In the mid-morning light, the shaggy cut platinum hair was matted down with dried sweat and stuck up at odd angles from where he had his head mashed into the pillow; some strands caught the light, others absorbed it to a darker shade reminiscent of his disguise. The sheet was draped carelessly over Malfoy’s midriff, teasing the barely-there line of hair that trailed down and under the hem of the bedclothes. Harry followed the trail of gossamer hair with rapidly heating eyes.

With a gut-wrenching sigh he pulled his eyes away and stood from the bed, mindful not to wake the sleeping dragon. He needed to have a chat with his manager about this. Harry refused to believe Blaise was unaware of who ‘Drew Malloy’ had really been under his glamours, or himself under his.

‘ _Speaking of which…_ ‘

Harry softly padded to the bathroom to reapply his own glamours and to cast a few hygienic charms. Just because Draco, and possibly Blaise, knew his real identity didn’t mean that he could be lax with his disguise around the band. They all had formed close ties with Potts, not Potter, regardless of the fact they were the same person essentially.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Zabini, do you have a minute?” Harry queried, poised at the office door. Blaise looked up with questioning tilt to his head. Potter had never referred to him as ‘Zabini‘. They had known each other in a professional capacity for over a year now, and barely 2 weeks into the contract the business of last names was put to rest mutually.

“Sure, _Potts_. What did you need?” Blaise answered back, placing a delicate stress on Harry’s last name.

“I’m pretty sure we can drop the pretenses. I should have known better than to let a Slytherin manage the band. Or let anything to do with magic near us. What in Merlin’s name were you thinking, bringing him here?!” Harry spat, his tone becoming dark and angry the more he spoke.

Blaise raised one well-groomed eyebrow and quirked up a small smile. So he knew, did he? He gazed down at his papers and ruffled them slightly.

“Well then, Potter, I think you of all people would understand why I brought him here. His long-standing obsession with all things Potter not withstanding, I knew you’d allow him refuge. Your Hero-Compl-” Blaise started when a teacup on his table shattered. His shocked eyes flicked up to look at the brunette. A low, rumbling growl rebounded around the small but well furnished office.

“If you’ve learned anything about me in the last year, you won’t finish that sentence. You see, I left the Wizarding World for a damned good reason, Zabini. And it wasn’t to be dragged back by some paramour. You know Draco won’t be happy away from magic indefinitely. So either you brought him here to start another ungodly Potter-Malfoy fight, or else to tempt me into coming back, perhaps to gain favor for finding where I disappeared to. So, which is it you thrice-damned Slytherin?” Harry bit out-his eyes grew dangerously cold. His unpredictable magic whipped his hair around, blew his shirt hem back and forth, and ruffled the papers on Blaise’s desk. It was better than it lashing out again and destroying something far more valuable than a teacup. Blaise took a moment to respond, studying the shards of his cup and the splatter of tea across various documents.

“Neither.” He replied simply.

“Neither? It must be one or the other, Zabini!” Harry fumed.

“It needs not be either, Potter. I brought him here to help him. For no other reason. I am too financially invested in the success of your rather charming little musical group to drag you back to Wizarding Britain myself, but I’m far more invested in the mental state of my best mate. Draco was a wreck. Between the trials, the imprisonment of his father, you disappearing, and then the sad passing of his lovely mother, Draco was devastated. So I did what I deemed best for his interests. And that was to bring him here, to you, even if you two insisted on going by other names and guises. He needed you. Either as Hardy _or_ Harry.” Blaise finished, his voice firm and reproachful.

“Why would he need _me_? We hated each other. I’m not even sure we still don’t hate each other.” Harry declared.

“Right. It didn’t sound like you hated each other all night long, Potter.” Blaise countered with a look that clearly stated his inability to believe they hated each other still. He wasn’t about to tell Potter just why Draco needed the brunette. He’d leave that up to Potter to discover on his own, or Draco to flat out hit him with a clue-by-four.

The blush that stained Harry’s face radiated off his skin. He was momentarily at a loss for words. He hadn’t realized that they were _that_ loud. Then again, Blaise’s office was nearly right below Harry’s upstairs flat.

“Let’s lay to rest your insistence that you two hate each other. I know differently." Blaise said and waived away the comment with an airy hand.

"Not only would you be a good influence on him, but you needed him as well. Or, at least, his vocal talents.” Blaise commented, looking directly into Harry’s eyes. If there was a sure-fire way to distract the former Gryffindor away from a topic, namely the reason Draco needed the prat, it was to bring up his band.

“He can sing, I’ll give him that. And write music. He’s got talent, I’ll freely admit. But I’m not entirely sure your intentions were admirable or welcome, Blaise.” Harry responded. He ran a hand through his magically tamed hair in a classic sign of confusion.

“I, for one, trust your intentions on keeping him here. That is to say, I assume you won’t be sending him on his way.” Blaise countered.

“No…No, of course not.” Harry stated, momentarily thrown by Blaise‘s trust in him. He focused once more when he realized that before this, there was implicit trust in regards to the band's management. “He’s welcome to stay.” Harry clarified.

“They why the open hostility?”

“Because I thought you were just trying to egg on a fight, or out for your own Slytherin ends.”

Blaise simply smiled after flicking his eyes to his ceiling then back down to Harry.

“Were you under the impression we would shag like bunnies before you stuck his name on that audition list?” Harry barked after a moment of silence between the two.

“Actually, I was hoping on it.” Blaise revealed smoothly. Harry’s silence was met with Blaise’s glittering brown eyes. He couldn’t hide his amusement even if he tried.

“Your orientation isn’t exactly a well-hidden secret. And I was privy to Draco’s fancy of you even before you ran away from Wizarding Britain.”

“F-fancy?” Harry stuttered. His brain was struggling to keep up with everything Blaise was revealing. Draco had fancied him before he left? That was not even a year after the war! Before then, they were actively fighting a war on opposite sides. Harry frowned, once again pulled into a melancholy at the thought of what the war had cost everyone. Blaise didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Harry used the new silence to think about the interactions of him and Draco during the war, despite the hollow feeling it left in the pit of his stomach.

Draco had refused to identify him at the Manor. According to Luna, he would sneak her and Olivander food and potions whenever he could. He lowered his wand when he had Dumbledore cornered on the tower. He had kept trying to pull Crabbe and Goyle back from casting anything fatal to the Golden Trio in the Room of Requirement. Harry distinctly remembered Draco had shouted at his cronies to not kill him. And during the final battle, he never once fired on any of his schoolmates or teachers.

Harry looked at his trainers speculatively. He knew Draco had just been following orders; family and pride forced him to commit acts he would have never committed beforehand. But that was years ago. And he was acquitted, partly from Harry’s own testimony. But how could that equal a fancy for him? As if Blaise performed Legilimency, he piped up.

“If you had pig-tails, Potter…He would have pulled them.”

Harry softly huffed under his breath and turned to leave, unwilling to stand there and dissect every instance of their supposed mutual animosity during their formative years at Hogwarts prior to the war.

“You can ask him if you want. I’m sure he will be honest with you about his obsession with you.”

“I don’t doubt his sincerity, Blaise. He confessed as much last night prior to loosing his disguise. It was always me.” Harry intoned with no inflection, then he left Blaise to ponder over what Draco had confessed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry ran another hand through his hair, confused. Why was he even mad? Blaise _should_ have brought Draco here. It was a wise thing to do. Draco obviously had musical talent. What better way to hide from the Wizarding World than to stash him within a muggle band under disguise? Harry had a brief moment of disgust at himself for thinking mostly of the benefit to his band due to Draco’s talents, than the stability of the blonde’s mind. He had effectively became an orphan, albeit later in life than he, himself. And after a childhood like his, it must have been a devastating blow. Harry swiftly leapt up the spiral staircase to his loft. He silently slipped in and spied a yellow folder sitting on the table-forgotten by the two of them the night before. He stood for a moment and listened. He didn‘t hear the sound of running water or footsteps moving around in his room.

With a slow smile he glanced down at the manifest in his hands, then decided he‘d just knick it and explain to the blonde when he woke later. He flipped through the music within the folder. This was right up their alley! With a triumphant gleam in his eye, he slipped back out of the door with a quick wave at the frame. Wandlessly, he had cast a silencing charm over the door. If Blaise could hear their rather raucous rutting, then Draco would no doubt be woken by the band practicing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry ran into Raymond on his way to the band’s practice stage. _Literally_.

“ _Ooof_! Man Hardy, you’ve got a hard head.” Raymond said. He winced and rubbed ruefully at the spot from where their respective craniums made contact. Harry flashed him a quick grin.

“I think Dra-Drew would agree with that statement.” Harry replied with a wicked gleam in his eyes, barely refraining from calling the blonde by his true name.

“Mate, you _didn’t_!” Raymond gasped in mock-outrage. It wasn’t like he didn’t know full well what would have happened between those two once alone in any room that contained a flat surface.

“A few times, actually.” Harry laughed He turned with his drummer to walk back into the spacious room. Ray finally spotted the light yellow folder that Harry was clasping with one tightly curled hand.

“Is that his? Drew‘s?” He asked with a speculative eye. An answering affirmative nod was his reply.

“I hope that kid isn’t just a one-hit wonder. His audition song was spot on, but anyone can write one good song.” Raymond mused. He was met with a frank look from Harry.

“Drew has a lot hidden in him. And I don’t think Blaise would have signed him so easily if that one tune was all he had to offer.” Harry said, an edge to his voice and a bad taste in his mouth at the mention of their manager. Raymond raised a bushy brow at him.

“Easy there, Tiger. I wasn’t having a go at your new boy-toy. He was good. I just hope there’s more of that good, ya know?”

“ _B-boy-toy_?” Harry sputtered. “He’s not my boy-toy.” Harry asserted.

“As long as your involvement doesn’t push him away, I don’t really care what you two call each other.” Fletcher piped up from behind his keyboard. He was fiddling with a few wires, hunkered down behind the elaborate setup and Harry hadn’t seen him until he spoke.

“He’s not going anywhere.” Harry stated firmly; a wry smile pulled at his lips.

“Good. Now let’s have a look at that manifest of his.” Raymond said as he tugged the folder from Harry’s grip.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco woke to an empty bed, sheets pulled down to his waist, a slight chill wafted over his bare chest. He groaned slightly when movement shot a twinge up his back. Oh… Right. _Harry_. He had done his best to plow Draco straight through the springy mattress the previous night. If not the first time, the two immediately proceeding it did the trick. Draco raised his arms above his head and stretched his muscles languorously. He twisted around to find a clock on the bedside and its glowing numerals read a quarter after 10 in the morning. With a happy sigh he got out of bed. He leisurely looked around the tidy room for his clothing, hastily discarded by Wonderboy the night before.

It was ten minutes later that he found his clothes and spelled them clean; another five brought him to the bathroom for his ablutions. A few more seconds of fiddling with the knobs and he was under the wonderfully hot spray from Harry’s shower. He wasn’t sure why he was keeping track of the minutes, seeing how Harry had neglected to leave him a note as to their agenda for the day.

‘ _I’ll just have to hunt him down and find out_.’ Draco mused while knotting a towel around his waist.

He pulled out his wand from the bundle that was his clothes and started to apply the specially attuned glamours that transformed him subtly from Draco Malfoy, to Drew Malloy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Let’s try this one. I like the lyrics…” Harry said and tossed a copy of the hand written music to his keys and drums players.

“’Alone Together’? Missing him already, Hardy?” Fletcher snickered.

“I could just leave you guys here to practice without a vocalist. I don’t mind going back upstairs and sinking into him again.” Harry replied, then moved to take a step down from the stage. A chorus of negatives made him smile, then laugh outright.

“You guys would sound like dung without me. I better stay.” He pulled a face as if he was extremely put out. It garnered him a few answering chuckles. Harry reached down for one of his guitars perched on their individual stands. He chose a Gryffindor-scarlet one with a fond smile. It was one of his first professional grade guitars. And it felt right in his hands.

“No keys on this, Fletch. Where’s Carey? We need bass.” Ray said. He craned over his kit to look towards the door. Just then Carey walked in yawning.

“About time, sleepyhead. I’m here on time, even being shagged out. What’s your excuse?” Harry tossed him a greeting, then grinned to take the sting from his words.

“I was up late. Sod off.” Was the only reply any of them got. Carey grabbed his bass and reached for a copy of the music.

“This kid sure knows how to break down music.” Fletcher said, reading over Carey’s shoulder as he ran through the lines of bass.

“I’m pretty sure he had music lessons from a young age.” Harry said. He avoided his bandmates’ eyes. Raymond looked up at him with a piercing look.

“You ready? Let’s get on with it then.” Harry said after a beat. He stepped up to the mic and placed his music on the stand next to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco pulled open the door to Harry’s quiet upstairs flat and was met with a drum beat that immediately set his hackles up. He must have broken the a silencing charm when he opened the door. It took him a moment to recognize the sounds his ears were being bombarded with. _That was his music_! He carefully schooled his features into an impassive mask, slowly meandering down the spiral stairs. He carefully measured his stride down the hall and mentally went over the litany of insults he could throw at the Savior. He didn’t appreciate people knicking his things. His music was personal to him! As he neared the door Harry’s clear voice rang out and Draco stopped in his tracks with wide eyes. Logically, he should have known that the only other vocalist in the band would be singing it. But something about Harry singing his song pulled the cork that held all his anger simmering inside.

“ _My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it’s broken. And do you wanna…feel beautiful, do you wanna…_ ”

Draco slowly stepped around the doorframe, careful not to draw attention to himself. What he saw caused his breath to hitch. Harry was on stage. Harry was belting into the mic. Harry was on. Everything Draco’s eyes took in sent a shiver up his spine. Sure, he had sang with him the evening before, but they were side by side and Draco was more focused on his own performance than the one next to him. Seeing Harry from this perspective was intoxicating.

“ _I’m outside the door, invite me in, so we can go back and play pretend. I’m on deck, yeah, I’m up next. Tonight I’m high as a private jet, yeah. Let’s be alone together. We can stay young forever. Scream it from the top of your lung-lung-lungs…_ ” Harry abruptly cut off and the band followed suit. He reached over and pulled a pencil from the music stand and made a short note on the paper.

“Alright, I think I’ve got that down now. Blimey, Drew doesn’t make it easy, does he?” Harry called back to his band, still unaware of his lone audience member.

“Oh I dunno, Hardy. Seems to me that Drew made it _very_ easy for you.” Raymond snickered. He caught sight of Drew from behind Hardy and met his smirk with one of his own.

“Don’t be jealous that _he_ got my cock instead of _you_.” Harry replied without missing a beat. 

“Just _what_ do you think was easy last night, _Potts_?” Draco drawled. He leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and a trademark Malfoy smirk firmly in place. The friendly ribbing amused him but he wasn’t about to let that show.

Harry jumped and dropped his pencil in surprise. He spun around with wide eyes to see Draco eyeing him with a glint.

 

TBC


End file.
